


more than gold

by AmericanCanada



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Falling In Love, First Kiss, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, Supportive Katsuki Yuuri, Touch-Starved, they have many problems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 14:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13836678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmericanCanada/pseuds/AmericanCanada
Summary: Kintsugi(金継ぎ, きんつぎ, "golden joinery"), also known as Kintsukuroi (金繕い, きんつくろい, "golden repair"), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum, a method similar to the maki-e technique.Victor grows up to fit the gold medals around his neck, and he loses himself along the way, the medals ribbon turning into a noose instead. At some point in his life, he is only wanted as much as the gold he wins.Until a certain Japanese man comes into his life and shows him that he is worth more than gold.





	more than gold

**Author's Note:**

> hey my guys, this is just a little pet project I've been working on since... last night ^^; but I have plans for it so let's see how this goes. it's only going to be 5 chapters and each chapter will probably be relatively short, but this is pretty much a character study / new style thing.
> 
> I love the word kintsugi, it's so beautiful, and so is it's meaning. I briefly considered making it the title but I like this one better tbh.
> 
> if you want to, I'm on Tumblr as [@undadasea](https://undadasea.tumblr.com) and I am 100% willing and ready to talk about my fics <3
> 
> the quotes in this chapter come from [Colors by Halsey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvH5ZhSn1Jg). I would recommend you listen to it as you read :3
> 
> now, hope you enjoy the first chapter, I'll try and have the next chapter up by next week!

" _ **You're dripping like a saturated sunrise**_  
 _ **You're spilling like an overflowing sink**_ "

 

It is said that passion is a flame. It burns in most, but it roars in few. It's a driving force that will make you do rash things. For most people, those decisions could be life or death.

For a young Victor Nikiforov, the decision was easy. Stay or move.

Move to St. Petersburg, to where his coach lived, to where he would train for so many years. And so he packed his bags and he moved, too young at the time to know exactly how much this choice would affect his future. 

When he reached the rink for the first time, he was in awe.

As he got older, the awe faded into familiarity.

Now, many years later he stilled stared up at the rink before climbing the stairs he knew so well. A divet here, a missing corner there. He had only just finished the Junior Grand Prix Final, a gold medal on the podium, and he was whisked back here to train until Nationals. But that was okay. Victor had already poured so much time into this, into skating. Into his life. 

He walked into the building and breathed the crisp, cold air. He put on his skates and he stepped onto the ice, listened the quiet glide of his skates on the ice, the first to make a mark on the fresh ice. Ice that had been redone after every practice, yet still stayed the same. Still let the morning sunlight gleam across the surface as Victor skated in lazy circles around the rink.

Not long after would Yakov arrive, and soon after him, the other skaters, breaking the serenity. And they would skate and they would break and they would skate some more. Then everyone would go ome except two.

Yakov who had paperwork to tend to in his office.

And Victor. Victor, who, despite having been on the ice most of the day, still sighed at the now empty rink and prepared himself to run through his programs again. His blades loud as he landed another jump, the sweat on his brow heavy and his long hair needing to be tightended in it's ponytail. 

But still he finished his run through, and he took a sip of water, and he did it again. And again. Until he was sure his feet would bleed through his skates, he did it again, and even then he pushed himself. 

Only when Yakov came out of his office, intent on heading home since he finished all the work he had here, did he stop. And even then only because he was yelled at. Yakov told him to cool down and stretch and get off the ice. 

"Honestly, Vitenka," Yakov would grumble, every time he would grumble it. "You are going to strain yourself too much." He would place an affectionate hand on top of Victor's head. "You need to breathe and you need to take it easy or you won't make it to Nationals because you'll be injured."

Victor would nod, say he understood and step off the ice.

But he would be right back there the next morning.

At some point Yakov began to worry, but Victor wasn't sure when. But he told Victor he couldn't skate for two days. He said he needed a break, needed to let his muscles relax some. 

But Victor couldn't take it.

He made it one day, occupying himself with updating his social media and replying to some fans, and texting Chris and his family. 

The second day, however, was too much. 

After so many years of pushing himself to the brink and then some, he had no idea what to do now. So he sat on the floor, back against his couch and Makkachin whining, nudging her nose against his leg as Victor cried, everything suddenly too much and not enough.

He needed to move, but he was under strict orders to refrain from exercise. He needed to be touched to be held, but he could only push people away. 

And then Makkachin licked his cheek, her ears pulled down and he tail softly thumping the floor in a slow rhythm, and Victor looked up and smiled. He pulled her into a tight hug, but she didn't whine again, only licked him now that more of his face was exposed. 

"Makka," Victor whimpered into her fur. "I'll always have you, right?" 

The excited yip he got in return made him smile.

"Then I'll never need anyone else."

 

" ** _You’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece_**  
 ** _And now i’m tearing through the pages and the ink_** "


End file.
